


rose tattoos

by teeya



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 11:46:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14568339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teeya/pseuds/teeya
Summary: short story in which tattoo artist Phil spots a cute boy on a rainy day





	rose tattoos

**Author's Note:**

> this is super short and originally was going to be part of a larger story
> 
> whoops I suck at writing novels oh well have this

It was a Sunday when Dan and Phil first met.

The day was the sort that you spent indoors with your lover; snuggled on the couch with a single blanket, hot chocolate in your hands, rain splattering on the windows, candles painting the room a soft gold and a rom com playing on the television. Well, at least that's how Phil wished he could've spent the day. Instead, he was stuck in his tattoo parlour, for once hating the shop he'd put his entire heart into.

It was pouring out. The clouds that'd been looming threateningly over the city for the past few days had finally unleashed themselves upon the city. Rain hammered roofs and sent waterfalls running down sloped streets. The water pooled in the gutters and spread out across the road. It lashed this way and that, unforgiving to any stranger who dared step from under their umbrella or the undercover paths that lined the streets.

Phil looked outside with a sense of almost overwhelming dread. The day was bland, boring and just plain annoying. He'd always hated the rain and envied those who had someone to hide away inside with. The rain, the clouds, the grey always managed to dampen (hah) his mood and make him feel oh so lonely. It always reminded him of how big his apartment was for one person and how he hadn't fallen in love with someone who'd fallen in love back and how he was constantly having stupid petty crushes on anyone and everyone. It was stupid - and for that, he hated the rain.

All he wished was to be at home. Even more so, to be at home with someone. It wasn't that he didn't have friends or family that loved him, it was just that he didn't have the connection that he so badly craved. He wanted to love and be loved so much that it almost physically hurt him. He'd loved, oh how he has loved. The girl with the forest green shoes who so often made her way into Line 80 to get her latest tattoo. The boy he used to see at the coffee shop every day and always ordered a plain black coffee and told the waitress to keep the change. The non-binary human being who came in and told Phil their entire story while he designed and tattooed a lion onto their back. Phil fell in love with everyone, but no one seemed to fall in love with him.

With a groan he hoisted himself up onto the counter, legs dangling and limbs lazy. Apart from his breathing, the only sound was the faint pitter patter outside and the hurried footsteps of people trying to escape the rain. Sometimes, in these quiet moments, Phil wondered. He thought about soulmates, he thought about people, he thought about the fluttering heart, the butterflies, the shivers he felt when he slowly fell in love with a stranger. He thought and wondered and pondered about such things and the emotional problems with his heart until his head hurt.

Phil's eyes wandered over to the window, peering out through the rain. His eyes followed the cars that he could barely make out through the sheets of water. He watched as strangers past; a businessman, a woman with a giant hat, a family of six. They all passed and if they caught eye of him, raised their eyebrows at his sitting on the counter with his legs kicking the air. He shrugged each time and they shook their heads and moved on.

The black car he had just started to watch as it came into view pulled into the parking spot right outside his shop. Phil, suddenly curious as to where the stranger was off too, kept his eyes on the car, eagerly awaiting the opening of the car door. Phil did this an awful lot. Finding himself completely enthralled and curious about people, that was. He often questioned who they were, what their favourite colour was, if they have siblings etcetera. He also preferred to keep this information to himself.

Finally, the door the the black car opens and Phil's breath catches in his throat.

Dan - who was the boy who had just stepped out the black car - smiled at everything. He smiled at the hard raindrops splattering his skin, saturating his shoes and becoming part of his body. He smiled at the people passing him on the pathway. He smiled at the fat, grey rolling clouds that roiled above the entire city. And most of all, he smiled at the boy he'd spotted staring at him through the windows of a shop called Line 80.

Dan was drowning in the pink sweater that reached his knees. In fact, the sleeves had a habit of continuously slipping over his hands so much that it was required to push the sleeves back up constantly. He was practically the essence of a modern day millennial in his black ripped skinny jeans, white rip-off converse covered in scribbles and white rose flower crown that adorned the mousy brown curls on his head. 

Phil, who was mesmerised by the boy, did not seem to notice that the boy saw him too; and what he saw he thought was beautiful. Phil was in skinny jeans, just as Dan was, but they were scuffed, ripped and practically pulling apart at the seams. Tattoos lined his arms, starting at his wrists and slowly curling up to his elbows. The rest of his arm was yet to be filled in with more stories. He wore a grey hoodie, a reflection he felt as to what the day was, with the hood up and the sleeves pushed to just below his biceps. Dan smiled, but the boy didn't seem to notice.

The tattoo artist clutched his chest where cupids arrow had hit him.

The boy in the pink sweater smiled as his heart soared for this boy in Line 80.

Around them as they shared this moment of elation for each other, the city moved on while the two boys froze. Until the boy in the pink sweater became part of the city and the rain once more, leaving Phil with merely a memory of his smile.


End file.
